Candlelight Isn't For Romance Anymore
by Stephensmat
Summary: The key to survival is to adapt to changing circumstances. Sometimes you can't do that alone. DaleSkylar


"Oh come on Miss Bailey!" Dale snapped. "You use more candles in that bar than any two homes, and NOBODY comes to you for healthy food, don't act like I'm cheating you!"

"Dale, you know I'm not a mercenary, but those candles, they don't last more than a half hour. Most people can make a meal go that long these days."

From the opposite end of the store, Skylar piped up. "Give him a break April, they're tea-candles, you don't use them in a blackout, you use them to make your bath smell nice. We're improvising here!"

"We're ALL improvising here." Mary was firm. "Most of my customers go blind from the moonshine anyway, so why do I need more candles?" She gave Dale a sympathetic smile. "Sorry Dale."

Skylar picked up Dale's baseball bat as Mary walked past, but caught the look Dale sent her, and put it down. "Thank you and come again!" she chirped sarcastically after the bartender.

Dale sighed and put the candles away.

"My dad had the same problem once." Skylar told him.

Now he looked at her. "What?"

"I'm surprised you couldn't hear him screaming into his cell phone from the other side of town." She smirked. "I don't know what it was exactly, but I think it was about umbrellas."

Dale looked upward momentarily, as if to pose a question, then looked back. He didn't speak.

"Never what you think it's gonna be with me huh?" She grinned big. "Okay, see, my dad always bought things wholesale. Less, if you don't ask him where it came from. He got some umbrellas by order form, but they arrived ripped, so he got his money back, then used them to patch up poncho's and stuff."

"Improvise solutions, huh?"

"Yeah."

He was thinking again. Skylar grinned as started opening the packet of tea candles.

And sure enough, later that night at home, she watched him carving one of her old socks, slow and methodical. He didn't say anything to her. He was saying less and less since Gracie died.

There was a knock at the door, and Skylar opened it. It was Heather. "Hey Skylar. Dale wanted this?"

"I'll take that." Skylar said and grabbed it off her, heading back to join Dale in the kitchen. Heather followed her.

It was a metal tripod from the school science lab. It was only tall enough to stand over a Bunsen burner. She stood it up over the longest candle they had left and set a steel bowl over the flame, feeding in bits of used candle wax that she and Dale had saved.

She was focused on that, when Dale reached over her at the counter for the scissors. He stopped to check her progress. "Don't melt them too fast, I'm still working here."

"Don't worry about me." Skylar said, and hip-checked him away gently, when she noticed Heather in the doorway, biting her lip to hide a grin. "What?"

"Nothing, just... a heartwarming little domestic scene here."

"Go back to Main Street and make out with Jake Green some more." Skylar retorted.

Heather turned bright pink and ducked out. Skylar noticed Dale giving her a dirty look. "Okay, I'll make it up to her tomorrow."

Dale brought over the strip of cloth, and dipped it slowly into the bowl. The wax was melted, but still didn't let the wick slip through. Skylar and Dale sighed as the fabric bent back against the wax.

"It's too woven." he said in frustration. "It's been woven too long and now it won't stay straight when I dip it."

She breathed gently on the candle to stoke the flame a little bit. "What else can we do?"

He shrugs. She looked away from the bowl and found herself about three inches away from his face.

Long silence.

Dale looked away first.

They stepped away from each other awkwardly. Dale stared at his shoes, gestured at the fabric strips and mumbled something quietly.

"What was that?"

"Sorry about your sock."

Beat.

Skylar burst out laughing. Dale almost smiled.

The next morning, Skylar came out to find Dale hard at work.

She looked over his shoulder. "You got it working?"

"We don't need fabric, we need cord."

She looked closer. He had sliced the strip much thinner, and wound them together in a cord. He already had the wax melting. He tied a knot in the cord end, and dipped it in the wax. As before, it didn't sink through. "Damn."

"I've got an idea!" Skylar said and went outside quickly. She came back in a moment later with a pebble from her garden. "The cord works, but you've got to weight the end." She slipped the pebble into the cord knot and tightened the knot. "Fingers crossed?"

Dale shrugged, and dipped it into the wax. This time it worked.

He grinned over his shoulder in victory, and found himself inches away from her again. He felt his face turning red.

Skylar blinked and found herself staring at him. She leaned forward slowly...

"Ow!" Dale yelped and she leaped away from him in shock.

Dale had lowered his fingers into the melting wax.

Skylar, feeling stupid, grabbed a washcloth drying on the windowsill, and dipped it into the bucket of water in the sink, quickly wrapping it around his fingers.

"Don't let the wick bend." He warned her, and she took it off him.

The wax cooled and hardened, she dipped it again, pulled it out, let it cool, covering it over and over, thickening the wax. "Dale, I think this is gonna work."

"Yeah."

"That new guy? The cop? His daughter told me that her mom burns a lot of candles, and the wax keeps making a mess on their tables."

Dale grinned. "We should clean it up for them."

She grinned back. "Helpful people that we are."


End file.
